My Penis Is Cupid’s Arrow and I Don’t Know What to Do About It
Send help, but don’t get too close or you might end up pregnant.
I was borderline a gold-star virgin when I was diagnosed with leukemia.
I’d kissed two girls by the time I was diagnosed at the age of 20… and that was it.
Fast forward fifteen years, and my penis has become Cupid’s arrow.
To avoid any confusion, I’m not saying my penis is held in the supple hands of a baby. I’m saying that if I sleep with you, you will marry the next man or woman you meet.
Call me crazy, call me unhinged. Just don’t call me for a late-night booty call because you will leave the single life behind and tumble into holy matrimony with your new-found soulmate.
I’m not trying to brag…
In fact, I’m the best at not bragging, and everyone knows it. There is simply an established pattern now. Case in point — my previous three girlfriends all went on to marry (and even start a family with) the man they met after me.
Coincidence? I don’t think so.
The dating pool has been endlessly diluted by swipe-happy singles browsing apps like they’re choosing entrees from a laminated Chinese restaurant menu. What are the odds of three consecutive partners all exiting the dating game with only myself as the variable?
It’s too far-fetched to be random.
I’m a college football coach, training the next generation of superstars before watching them go off and succeed in the NFL. My curse is to spot potential, but watch talent get snapped up by others with bigger, uh, “sporting budgets” than mine.
If this sounds familiar, Hollywood has already brought this phenomenon to life on the big screen.
2007’s ‘Good Luck Chuck’ tells the story of Chuck (played by Dane “Whatever Happened To That Guy” Cook) who is incapable of sleeping with a woman without seeing her leave him to marry the next man she meets.
If you’re lucky, you’ve seen this film and know exactly what I’m talking about. If you’re very lucky, you’ve never seen it at all (it’s terrible).
A short chronology of my weiner
I don’t believe I was born with this life-changing power.
If my willy could bring true love to anything it touched, there would be several happily married pillows with strategically cut holes.
And what about my hand?! My right hand would have been married 400,000 times by now (conservative estimate).
Hell, even my left hand would have a few marriages under his belt (we’ve all tried to sit on our other hand until it goes numb, STOP MAKING ME FEEL WEIRD ABOUT IT).
I suspect I’ve disrespected a witch or shaman at some point, possibly on a peak-hour bus or online. I can’t say for sure; it’s tough to know who comes from a black magic background.
Of course, this uncertainty makes removing the curse that much harder.
And a curse is what it is.
The pattern of my ex-girlfriends settling down after our relationship has nothing to do with the fact that all relationships are learning experiences. Or that my partners may have simply grown to the point they were ready to settle down with the person they met after me.
Logical reasoning like that would require me to look internally and confront some harsh truths about myself as a boyfriend. Tough conversations may ensue. And using the “It’s not me, it’s them” card would be off the table.
No. This is dark magic.
I’ve been cursed with the power of Cupid’s arrow
That’s the only logical conclusion a rational, cognitively healthy person can arrive at.
Any woman I sleep with will find a ring on her finger, church bells in her ear, and a new soulmate to grow old with. There’s no other hypothesis that holds up.
In the words of Uncle Ben, “With great power comes great responsibility”. He was talking about Peter Parker’s moral challenges as a friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. But a part of me thinks the screenwriters might, just might, have been referencing my curse.
Either that or my ex-girlfriends were so relieved to be rid of me that the next man they met seemed perfect in comparison.
Sort of like eating chocolate ice cream after a bowl of fresh dog poop. In this case, marriage and children were the only logical choices to avoid the risk of dating another man like me.
But I’m 99% sure I have a magical dong.
Either way, surviving cancer has brought new families together, so every cloud has a silver lining, I suppose.
With love,
New World Porter
P.S. If you enjoyed this post, leave a like or comment with the button below (takes 0.46 seconds) so I can think terribly filthy thoughts about you.
I’ll let my single friends know about your super power!!!
You are incredibly funny, but please keep your distance from me! I've been married twice and I am NOT going for that third strike! 😜